


Dean's Nerd Crush (Christmas Edition)

by Kitmistry



Series: Kitmistry's Holiday Fics [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, First Dates, First Kiss, M/M, Misunderstandings, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21902029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitmistry/pseuds/Kitmistry
Summary: You’re invited to our Ugly Sweater Christmas Party!Come join us to celebrate the season at Donna’s Delights. Free drinks and snacks included with the invitation.Dress Code:Strictly the worst Christmas sweaters you can find (or make)!Location:Donna’s DelightsDate:December 24th, 2019Donna’s Delights holds a party for all their employees and favourite customers, and this year Dean is going to take a chance and invite the man of his dreams to come with him—Jo insists it’s a cute, pressure-free first date after all.Or the one where Dean ruins Castiel’s ugly sweater.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Kitmistry's Holiday Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075259
Comments: 18
Kudos: 202





	Dean's Nerd Crush (Christmas Edition)

Dean fingers the paper in his pocket. His palms are sweaty, and for once, it has nothing to do with the warm atmosphere inside the bakery and everything to do with the clock almost reaching eight thirty. Just a few more seconds then.

Three.

Two.

One, and…

The door jingles right on time, the chilly December wind accompanying the ruffled banker inside. Dean’s heart skips a beat, not that he’d tell anyone.

“Hottie in a trench coat just came in,” Jo stage whispers, passing by Dean who is manning the cash register as she brings a tray of freshly baked cinnamon rolls to the display. As if Dean hasn’t been waiting for this exact moment since he woke up. 

“Be a little louder, won’t you? I don’t think that guy across the street heard you,” Dean hisses back, shooting a quick glare in her direction as he hands the woman her coffee and bag of scones with a forced but cheery, “Thank you and Happy Holidays.”

Jo sticks her tongue out at him, confident in the protection her baby-sister status gives her. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and gives him a quick thumbs up, the pom pom on her Santa Claus hat dancing around with the gesture. Dean’s starting to think that maybe he’s let her get away with too much crap over the years and it’s finally coming back to bite him in the ass.

But he doesn’t have the time to ponder that, for the dark haired banker steps up to the register, a soft smile on his chapped lips and Dean’s lost. All he can see is blue, blue, blue, and all he can focus on is him! The star of all of Dean’s dreams lately—wet or not—Mr. _Youngest Branch Manager of Adler Financial Holdings_ himself. 

Also known as _So-far-out-of-Dean’s-league-it’s-ridiculous_ and _Dean’s Nerd Crush—_ the latter coined by Jo—or, by the far simpler, shorter but surprisingly intriguing name he gives Dean to write on his cups: Cas.

Cas has been a regular for the last few months, always coming into the bakery at exactly the same time, and always ordering the same thing. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says with his stupid ruffled hair that does all kind of things to Dean’s insides. 

“Good morning,” Dean answers, his voice slightly higher than normal. “Welcome, I mean, hello.”

He’s an utter mess. Wonderful. He hasn’t even started, and he’s already ruining this.

“Um, okay,” Cas says, squinting at him in confusion. He lingers, shifting his weight like he’s waiting for Dean to say something else.

Which… Of course. _What can I get you today?_ is what Dean should have asked, except he already has a cup of coffee waiting by the register, prepared with the exact sugar Cas likes, and Dean’s best attempt at a cartoon-y reindeer drawn on the cup next to his name. Jo suggested writing his number on it, but that’s too bold for Dean. 

Dean pulls the cup of coffee from behind the counter in the exact way he’d been rehearsing in his head while trying to fall asleep last night—and the real thing happens smoothy, no spilled coffee, no Christmas decorations knocked over. 

“Double americano, one sugar, right?” he asks, ignoring his burning ears. He can do this. 

“You remember,” Cas exclaims, accepting the cup, and his face lights up with delight, making Dean’s chest light up in return with fireworks. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re one of our regulars.”

Cas makes a move for his wallet, but Dean’s hand darts out, two fingers touch the wrist of the hand holding the coffee, and he holds Cas’ gaze. “It’s on the house today.”

“Oh,” Cas says a little stunned. “I—thank you, but I have to pay. I insist. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“Dude, no,” Dean says, taking a couple of steps back to put some distance between him and the credit card he knows is hiding in Cas’ pocket. “It’s no trouble at all, I promise. In fact…” He takes a deep breath, steels himself. He can do this. He’s rehearsed the words dozens of times in front of his mirror already. “I have something else for you, too.”

He retrieves the invitation from his pocket, thanking every God that is listening that he had the forethought to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants earlier, and hands it over, unable to meet Cas’ eye. 

“Oh,” Cas says again, but this time his tone is a little different. A little happier perhaps. When Dean dares to steal a glance, Cas is reading the card, a half smile tugging at his lips. He looks up to catch Dean’s eye, the invitation still in his hand. “Thank you. Will you be attending?”

“Of course I will,” Dean says, over the drumroll of his pulse in his ears, and over his stomach dropping straight through his feet to lie in euphoria on the floor. Cas wants to know if _he_ ’ll be in the party, Cas _cares_ about him. “It’s a party for all the employees and my—I mean _our_ favourite customer. _S_ . Favourite _customers_. Plural.”

So smooth. Invite Cas to the party, that’s all he had to do. It seems Dean can mess up even the simplest of tasks. But there’s a faint pink colour tinting Cas’ cheeks, so Dean thinks he might still have a chance.

“In that case, I’ll make sure to be there,” Cas says, clearing his throat and holding Dean’s gaze, long enough that it can only be deliberate.

Dean’s entire body catches on fire. The grin that splits his face is so big his cheeks start to hurt. “Cool,” he says. “I mean, awesome. It’s awesome that you’ll come.”

He’s so caught up in the moment, that he ignores the door jingling open, and he doesn’t notice the woman strutting up to his counter ignoring the queue forming behind Cas until she’s raising a dark eyebrow at the invitation Cas is holding, both hands on her hips. 

“What’s taking you so long, Clarence?” she asks, looking between him and Dean. “We’re going to be late.”

_Clarence?_

Looking a little caught by surprise, Cas opens and closes his mouth a couple of times. Then a horrified expression crosses his features, and he turns back to Dean. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I forgot. I want another coffee today, a double cappuccino, please.”

“Soy milk,” the woman adds, rolling her eyes. Then she snatches the invitation out of Cas’ hand. “Oh, a party. This looks fun, we should go. They have the best donuts, I hope they bring some out for the celebration.”

Dean’s brain struggles to keep up. On autopilot, he turns to prepare the woman’s coffee. Who is she? Why is she calling Cas Clarence? How does one get Cas out of Clarence anyway? He goes through plenty of similar questions, and before he knows it, he’s handing the coffee over, and Cas is pushing his credit card in his hand.

“I insist on paying for this one,” he says, mouth twisting into something uncomfortable. Meanwhile the brunette has taken her phone out and is furiously typing away.

“I checked your schedule,” she says. “We have nothing planned for December 24th.”

“Thank you, Meg,” Cas tells her, giving Dean a short nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Two coffees in his hands, he leads the woman—Meg—out of the bakery. 

And then there’s a record-scratching moment where Dean finally realizes what just happened. 

Dean just tried to invite a possibly taken man on a date. And even worse, Cas’ girlfriend just invited herself to the party.

* * *

By all accounts the party is a success. Plenty of the people they invited show up and Donna seems to be having the time of her life. Jody seems a little tired of being glued to her wife’s side the whole night—literally, glued, since they are wearing a sweater for two with elf bodies knitted under the collars—but she lights up every time Donna drags her over to a new person to show off their ugly sweater. 

Dean thinks it’s adorable, though he’ll deny it to the end of his days. 

He wanders around the room in his homemade sweater featuring a Rudolph face with a red light bulb nose that somehow still works after three years—though he did have to get new batteries—sipping on mulled wine and stealing food every time he passes by the buffet. He keeps checking towards the door every few minutes, to the point Sam starts giving him knowing smiles from across the room, where he’s singing Christmas carols on the karaoke machine with Charlie. 

It’s almost eleven o’clock when Cas shows up, snowflakes dusted through his hair and across his shoulders, Meg hanging from his elbow with a red skirt almost as dark as his wine. She has a black sweater with a christmas tree decorated with skeletons on, too. If Cas is wearing a similar sweater, it’s hidden under his coat.

They look good together, he notes with a pang of jealousy.

He takes a deep breath. He can be the bigger person here. It’s not like he ever thought he had a real chance with Cas. The dude is probably making six figures and Dean makes coffee for other people.

“Cas, hey! You made it,” he greets, walking over. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas tells him, eyes creasing around the corners along with his smile. He’s helping Meg out of her leather jacket, but all his attention is on Dean. “I hope we’re not late.”

Dean waves him in dismissal. “What? No, the fun is just starting. Come in, we have mulled wine and drinks, snacks are over there, and don’t hesitate to join in with the karaoke. We’ll vote for a winner in two hours or so.”

“And what’s the prize?” Meg asks, grabbing a glass of wine from the table nearest to her.

“A free snack of your choice with every coffee you order for two months,” Dean says. “Plus a box of cinnamon rolls.”

“Interesting,” she purrs, turning her attention to Charlie belting _Santa Claus is coming to town._ “You don’t mind if I mingle, Clarence, do you?”

“Not at all,” Cas says to her already retreating back. 

They are left alone—as alone as two men standing in the middle of a party can be—and Dean grabs on the first subject he can come up with.

“Are you cold?”

Cas blinks at him.

Dean gestures at him. “Your coat. You’re still wearing it.”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” Cas says surprised. He makes quick work of the buttons, and then removes his outer layer to reveal that he, too, has complied with the dress code of the party.

Dean snorts. “Dude, did you make that?” 

“My brother made it, actually,” Cas tells him, glancing down at his sweater. It has a penguin stuffed toy stitched on the front and center, a Santa Claus hat glued on its head and several tree ornaments hanging around it. It’s an utter mess, and if they had an ugly sweater contest it’d probably win.

Dean has to bite back a smile. “Your brother is quite the artist.”

“He does say that he got all the talent in the family,” Cas agrees. “He’s a director.”

“Oh, anything I might have seen?” Dean asks, mentally prepared to run to the bathroom to google the shit out of the movies Cas mentions.

“I don’t know. His name is Gabe. Gabe Novak. He owns Trickster Productions.”

Dean chokes on his wine. “Um, _the_ Trickster Productions?” he manages to ask, while wiping a stray drop of wine travelling down his chin.

“So you _have_ seen his movies,” Cas says instead of an answer. 

His knowing smile makes Dean blush to his hair roots. No quicker way to embarrass oneself than to admit he watches porn. Porn Cas’ brother has apparently directed. Then again, why should he be embarrassed if Cas himself seems so casual about it?

“He has quite the selection,” Dean offers, as diplomatic as Cas is being. “I’m surprised he didn’t glue a screenshot from one of his productions on your sweater.”

Cas winces, bringing a hand to smooth the Santa hat the penguin is wearing almost self consciously. “I’m sure he would have if I hadn’t asked him to keep things appropriate.”

“Well it still looks awesome,” Dean says, raising his glass in a toast and belatedly realising Cas doesn’t have a drink. “Oh, let’s get you something too. What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” Cas says and follows him to the table with the drinks. 

“Mulled wine then.” Dean nods satisfied, and in a matter of seconds he has a steaming glass ready for Cas to take. “Happy Holidays,” he says, raising his glass again, and this time, Cas follows him.

“Happy Holidays, Dean.”

The glasses meet with a _clink!_ just as their eyes meet above them, and something behind Dean’s stomach pulls tight at the way Cas is looking at him. 

Distracted as he is, he pulls his glass back to his lips, only for someone to crash into him from behind, sending him tumbling right into Cas. They collide with a choked _oof!_ and the sound of glass breaking.

“Oh, sorry, dude,” the man says, sparing Dean the briefest of glances over his shoulder, before a woman Dean has seen plenty of times around the bakery pulls him away.

“Ah shit,” is what Dean says, trying to regain his balance, one hand on Cas’ shoulder, the other clutching his broken glass.

Cas wraps his arm around Dean’s waist, holding onto him until he’s stopped flailing around. Along with the relief comes the realisation of how close they are. And how firm the muscles under Cas’ sweater feel. And how there’s something wet trailing down his chest.

“Are you okay?” Cas asks, tilting his head back to be able to look Dean in the eye.

“Good. I’m good,” Dean manages to utter, belatedly realising he’s still holding onto Cas for dear life. He pulls back and looks down at his sweater to keep his mind away from whatever path groping a hot, muscled man leads to. Sure enough the entire reindeer is covered in wine, the red nose sad and shattered from the collision.

“Ah, shit,” he says, raising his arms away from his torso like that might help with his predicament. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Cas says, and Dean looks up to find Cas’ own sweater in a similar situation. The penguin is ruined, the hat is hanging off the side of its head miserably, and two ornaments have completely broke. A dark stain is quickly spreading over his chest, a mirror image of the one Dean was staring at just a second ago.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Dean says, snatching a towel and pressing it on Cas’ chest in a futile attempt to… do something. Anything.

Cas shoos his hands away, but his face is not unkind when he pinches the edge of his sweater between thumb and pointer finger to peel the wet material from his skin a few inches. “It’s fine. I don’t think a paper towel is going to fix this.” 

“I know how to fix it,” Dean offers, immediately grabbing Cas' wrist and dragging him behind the counter, past the kitchen and into the bathroom only employees use.

Once there, he instructs Cas to remove his sweater while he retrieves the necessary supplies. He steps back into the room, where Cas is waiting naked from the waist up, and his mouth goes instantly dry. It’s one thing to feel the muscles under the sweater, and a completely different thing to actually see them. And, Jesus, Cas is unfairly muscular for a _banker._ Whatever happened to the scrawny, nerdy stereotype of accountants everyone knows.

Obviously flushing under the attention, Cas says, “I’m sorry. I had a t-shirt underneath but it had wine on it, too, so I figured it was best to just take it off, too.”

Dean shakes his head to remember what he’s doing here. “Oh, yeah, no worries. Just give them to me, and I’ll deal with the stains. Here, I got you a towel.”

“Thank you,” Cas says, accepting the towel Dean holds out for him and using it to dab at his abs—if any God or deity is listening, Dean is ready to die. Yep, that’s it. He can go now that he’s seen this.

Tearing his eyes away as to not make Cas uncomfortable—he’s horny, not a pervert—Dean busies himself laying the sweater out, and then he grabs the bag of salt he brought from the kitchen. He dusts a generous amount over the stain, then moves to do the same with Cas’ t-shirt as well. 

“Salt for wine?” Cas comes closer to inspect Dean’s work.

Dean clears his throat, intensely aware of Cas next to him, close enough that if he just shifted his weight from one foot to the other they’d be touching. “Yeah, sucks the wine right out.”

“Huh, I didn’t know that.”

“Oh, yeah, best trick I know. Works like a charm for blood, too. Which I swear I know because my baby brother used to get in the most ridiculous of accidents and not because I’m a serial killer, I swear,” Dean adds quickly.

Cas’ eyes shine with amusement. “I didn’t think you were. I do hope your brother never got in any serious accidents, though.”

“Oh, no. They were all just stupid,” Dean says, waving a dismissive hand around. “He grew up fine. He grew up more than his fair share actually, the giant sasquatch.”

“Were you always the one to take care of your brother’s laundry?” Cas asks conversationally.

“I mean, yeah. We only had my dad growing up, and he was working a lot of hours, so I did a lot of housework to help. You know, to make things easier for him.”

“Your father must be proud.”

“I think he is,” Dean answers. “We butt heads a lot, but he can’t deny I’m an expert in stain removal. And cooking.”

Gotta sell that CV to the potential date, right? Except Cas is already taken, so really what is Dean even doing?

Cas nods, eyes going back to the sweater, which Dean is now dabbing with a damp cloth to make sure the salt really does its job.

“That’s very useful. My solution to any kind of stain is to have Meg take the clothes to the dry cleaners to deal with.”

“So, I take it Meg’s not very good with stains either?” Dean asks, not even bothering to suppress the small satisfaction of knowing he is better than her at something that blooms inside him.

“I mean, she does, but it’s not her job,” Cas says, frowning. 

“Oh?” Dean’s a little confused, but he guesses some couples just don’t meddle with their better half’s life that much. 

“I’m pretty sure she’d rather quit than do my laundry. Or rather force me to fire her so she can get compensation, too,” Cas adds thoughtfully, head tilted to the side so adorably that it takes a moment for Dean to catch up with what Cas just said. 

“I’m sorry what?”

Cas blinks back at him. “What?”

“Meg works for you?”

“Yes, she is my assistant,” Cas says, brows drawing together in confusion.

“Oh, okay,” Dean says, chuckling awkwardly. “Okay, it’s just that I thought she was your girlfriend.”

Cas’ confusion only deepens, as is clearly evident from the line between his brows that furrows further. “My—What? No. God, no. Meg and I are just friends. I mean, she’s my assistant as well, but we’re not dating.”

“Oh. My bad,” Dean says, heart rate picking up. “I just, you know, because she called you Clarence and her whole attitude. By the way, how _do_ you get Cas out of Clarence?”

Dean’s rambling like an idiot, and he knows he is, but he can’t stop. He has to re-evaluate this whole situation here, because Cas is apparently not dating Meg, which means that Dean still has a chance. 

Cas rolls his eyes at that. “My name is Castiel, actually. Clarence is a nickname. An inside joke if you’d like.”

“Castiel,” Dean repeats, tasting the word on his mouth. “Cool name. I like it better than Clarence.”

“Thank you,” Cas says with a small smile. 

Dean smiles back and they hold each other’s eye for longer than what is normal. Dean’s the first one to look away, butterflies dancing in his stomach. “So, um let’s see what we’ve done.”

He removes the salt from the sweater and shirt and surely enough, almost all of the wine is gone. He holds them up for Cas to see. 

“Tadah! I mean it still needs to be washed, but the worst of it is off.”

“Wow, that really worked,” Cas tells him, looking impressed. He takes the shirt in his hand to inspect it. 

“You still can’t wear it because it’s wet, but I can get you one of the hoodies I keep in my locker? I swear they are clean”

“Thank you, Dean. I’d really appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, Cas is pulling Dean’s hoodie on, and it fits him quite well, if Dean says so himself. Maybe he’s a little biased because he realises he likes seeing Cas in his clothes.

“Looks great.”

“It’s very comfortable,” Cas says, raising his arms to test the shoulder width. “Thank you, Dean. For everything.”

“Hey, it’s my fault there’s wine all over your clothes, so there’s no reason to thank me really.”

“I don’t think it’s your fault that man shoved you. But I also meant thanks for inviting me. I’m having quite a good time here.”

Dean flushes all the way to his hair roots. “Hey, don’t mention it. Even though it could be better, I guess.”

Cas hums, gathering his clothes in his arms. Then he turns to Dean, a weird, thoughtful expression written all over his face. “Can I confess something?”

“Sure,” Dean says immediately.

“I actually thought that you invited me here on a date, but if you thought Meg was my girlfriend, then I guess I’m wrong,” Cas says, searching Dean’s face. “Was I wrong?”

“If I did ask you here on a date, what would your answer be?” Dean asks, a nervous flutter spreading through his whole body.

Cas simply says, “Yes.”

Dean’s whole body explodes with warmth. He’s pretty sure his ears are as red as Rudolph’s nose, and he’s grinning hard enough that his cheeks hurt, but he doesn’t care. 

“In that case, yes, I’m asking you out on a date.”

Cas straightens up immediately, his serious expression melting into something softer. “So this is a date.”

“This is a date,” Dean confirms. “So, um, do you want to get out there, so I can try to charm you without either of us ending up with wine all over their clothes?”

“I’d love that,” Cas says, giving Dean a big gummy smile that makes his own grin spread impossibly wider. 

Dean opens the door, gesturing for Cas to lead the way back to the party, while doing a happy dance internally the whole time. He can’t believe Jo was right. 

Operation _Ask Cas on a Date_ is a total success. 

And judging from the way they end up kissing under a mistletoe sprig just a couple of hours later, Dean thinks the date is a success as well. Totally worth it for all the teasing he’ll have to endure over the next few days from his friends and brother. Actually Dean doesn’t even have the heart to care about the teasing when Cas smiles up at him, and leans in for another kiss. 

Totally worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Supernatural Trope Celebration Christmas Mini Challenge 2019. My trope was Ugly Sweaters, and there is a post on [tumblr](https://kitmistry.tumblr.com/post/189844442068/deans-nerd-crush-christmas-edition-written-for) that you can reblog if you want. 
> 
> Huge shout-out to [envydean](https://envydean.tumblr.com/) for being my beta. (I'm sorry for all the double words you had to fix.)
> 
> Happy Holidays <3


End file.
